When You Can't Walk
by DinosaursOnASpaceship
Summary: Set 9 years after the events of Miranda. The second war against the Alliance is underway with Mal and Zoe in the center of it all. But Mal makes a decision for Zoe's sake and does something he thought he'd never do. Spoilers for BDM. Disclaimer: I know the title doesn't match the mantra. It is on purpose.
1. The Letter

"All I'm saying," Mal's voice was rough from overuse, the hush of the tent carrying it to the ears of all the huddling men. "We're better off this time. I ain't promisin' a victory, but we got ourselves more resources, plus a hell of a lot more men still standing." The Sergeant looked to the faces of the half a dozen men surrounding him, meeting each's eyes. Except for Lieutenant Braggs. Nine years back, he was just another fancy core planet boy with nothing more than dreams of making bucket loads of money. Miranda had sparked some fight in him, but as war raged on, times got tougher, Mal could see the kid slipping. Mal wasn't about to call him out on it or nothing, maybe go and speak with him about it later. Instead he turned his attention back on his men.

"We all joined up for different reasons, but that don't mean—" His words died in his mouth as the tent flap opened and in walked his fellow sergeant and, hell with it, his best damn friend. To anyone other than Malcolm Reynolds, Zoe Washburne was still the picture of stoic and right terrifying military calm. There was no wavier in her movements, no look of distress on her face. She just walked in and sat down beside Mal like she would any day.

But Mal could see it.

It took all his control – which during times of war was plenty – not to get to his feet and ask her what was wrong. It was there, clear as day, in the littlest details. By now, Mal had known the woman going on twenty years, half their lifetimes. Been through the worst of it together. And the best of it, too. Those four years when she'd learned to smile and laugh again. It had taken some getting used to on Mal's part, that was sure. But to watch it happen, lay witness as the woman who had stuck by him all that time became genuinely happy, now that was a damn pretty sight to see. Miranda had taken that away, not entirely, but enough. It was thanks to her kid, really, that she hadn't completely retreated back to the corporal. Mal saw the change again, not as complete as before, walls still remaining intact, but he knew that nothing would make her laugh so hard as what Miranda took, nothing make her love so damn obviously.

Clearing his throat, Mal tried to recall what it was he had been saying before. Something about everyone joining the war for different reasons… This speech suddenly sounded too much like another he'd once given. A speech he really would rather Zoe not hear again. "Well, anyways, better get some sleep. All 'a you. The 42nd's sent word that we should all be ready by dawn to march out. Alliance's hold on Rosetta's weakening. We're gonna hit them from the south, but we'll learn more in the morning." Mal stood up, any semblance of camaraderie he liked to maintain during these intimate little moments with his men was gone. There was no doubt that a sergeant stood in his place. "Bed."

"Zoe, wait." The woman had joined the other's in their retreat. The moment he called her name, though, she stopped and turned around. She stood so damn tall. Physically, Mal was taller, but seeing the two of them together, no one would guess it. She was a mountain, her demeanor towering over all the men in her platoon. She was solid and unbreakable and just about the strongest damn person that he knew. Even as subtle as it was, the mere fact something had shaken her was enough to send a cold down Mal's spine.

Zoe looked at him a moment, then pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over. There was an understanding between the two that seldom needed words. "Goodnight, sir." And just like that she was gone and Mal was left standing there with the paper. He already knew what it was, although he hadn't taken a good look at it yet. There was only one thing it could be.

Carefully, Mal unfolded the letter and was struck by a painful tug at his heart. The girl's handwriting had gotten so much better since the last time Zoe'd shared. She was growing older by the day and he was missing it.

Zoe was missing it.

_Dear momma,_

_Sorry its been a long time since I last wrote. Simon has been really mean about getting me to do my school work and when I'm done I only have a little time to play with River or Kaylee or the baby. I can now do addition, subtraction, and multiplication! But Simon says I still need to work very hard at all of them. I don't understand why. If I'm gonna fly ships why do I gotta know that 3x4=12? _

_River is trying to teach me to dance. I'm not very good. It's okay because she tells me every time I get better and Kaylee always claps when I am done. Jayne was here some days back and even he saw me dance. It was sort of scary though because he had a big cut on his face and didn't hardly smile. I hope you and Uncle Mal don't got anything that bad. _

_I miss you momma. I know what you are doing is important but I asked Kaylee the other day and she said it has been almost two years since you and Uncle Mal left. That's a whole lot! I was just a little kid! I know it's bad too. I hear Simon and Kaylee talk about it sometimes when they think I'm sleeping. I'm scared. I miss you. Please come home._

_I love you bunches. Please be safe and drink lots of water. Simon's always going on about how important it is to stay hydrated._

_Love,_

_Sky Washburne_

Every muscle in Mal's body clenched. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Kaylee and Simon had to care for a kid that wasn't their own. It wasn't fair that Zoe wasn't back home with her. Hell, wasn't fair the girl didn't have a father. In time of war, what was fair and just was thrown aside, discarded like it wasn't hardly nothing but _luh suh_. And now they were heading into more and more battles that were beginning to feel like the end. He and Zoe had gotten lucky last time, but Mal had no delusions of such a happy ending this time around. She needed to go home. Zoe needed to go home before her kid became more an orphan than she already was.


	2. Lies

Mal had lied. He'd gotten good at it too. Telling his soldiers the hopes there were. Sure, the supplies and resources were coming in, but this wasn't a second war for independence and sometimes Mal believed himself to be the only who knew it. The Alliance wasn't a group of people, wasn't even a government, but an empire. And empires didn't crumble anymore. This wasn't Earth-That-Was. Blue Sun had printed it's label on damn near every arsenal their was, every tank and gun and bullet. The rogue weaponry was wearing thin with each new attack. Attacks that Mal knew were just distractions. His men – _good_ men – laying down their lives and the Alliance was sending in nothing but the foot soldiers forward to meet Browncoats head on. The shadows of the darkened tent moved, clustering to form an aged face, the voice of the long dead Shepherd ringing clear through Mal's mind. _They'll come at you sideways. It's how they think. It's how they move._ No one was ready for the battles to come. He'd thought Sturges was bad, Battle of Serenity worse, but they would be milk runs – Mal was quite sure – to the terrors that awaited them at any junction. For all anyone knew it could tomorrow's stationing or one in a week's time. A couple months. A year.

But that's why he had to lie, to continue lying. All them men and women who'd signed up for the war, they needed something to keep them going. It was too late to turn back, they were too in the thick of it now. Two years in and they hadn't made a scratch, but if Mal told them, would it be any better? Ignorance is bliss and, in time of war, bliss is a luxury not usually had. The only person he couldn't lie to was Zoe. Wasn't even sure if she'd ever believed it to be different, though, truth be told. She'd been there at Serenity Valley, she'd seen it at it's best and worst last time around and if Mal could sense the difference, Zoe would've as well.

Zoe.

Mal's mind drifted back to the letter he'd silently returned to Zoe. Even at forty, she was one of the finest soldiers about, her sergeant title not inflating her ego one bit. It was almost scary how easily she had slipped into the role once war started up again. Replaced gentle smiles with rigid stares and cooing lullabies with barking orders. Sky had been right, what they were doing here was important, but each time Mal saw the tired in Zoe's eyes, the removed gloss of her stares, whatever they thought they were fighting for wasn't worth Zoe's life. She had too much resting upon each healthsome breath.

Mal could still recall the morning they had left. Sky had been crying since the night before and Mal was sure she hadn't stopped. The decision was made, had been made months ago, but still the little girl – lost in confusion and heartbreak – clung to Zoe and wouldn't let go. Zoe'd been calm and collected, coaxing the child with loving little words and lies. Still Sky wept. Tears were still running down her raw cheeks when Jayne had finally pulled her away from her mother. Zoe and Mal had turned their backs and walked out the cargo bay. Their footsteps were even and destination set, but out of the corner of his eyes Mal watched Zoe. Not once did she look back round, not once did her chest catch. Each step took Zoe farther and farther from the mother she'd been for the past six years and into the woman of war. Zoe was by far the strongest person Mal had ever met. Too strong. That girl had been Zoe's entire life and every ounce of love that woman could muster was directed towards her. But even so, Zoe could walk away knowing full well that there was a great possibility she'd never see her daughter again. And a part of Mal was disgusted by it.

Two years had gone by. Not fast, but not slow neither. Paced in battles and retreats and ambushes. Each one Zoe was still walking after, but time had done it's damage. Sky was slowly breaking Zoe apart, each moment of combat, each scribbled letter. The woman needed to be back home with her baby. Zoe needed to watch her grow up, teach her how to handle a gun, be there to clap at each clumsy dance. But Zoe couldn't go home on her own. She was too stubborn and the laws of war too stiff. When you can't run, you crawl. And when you can't do that...

_You find someone to carry you._


End file.
